


Poison Dagger

by taylor_tut



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Poison, Poisoning, Self-Sacrifice, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 04:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10712010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: Another request: Lance takes a poisoned dagger for Shiro, who is not happy about it.





	Poison Dagger

Shiro’s jaw was clenched tightly as he pressed a strip of cloth gently to Lance’s bleeding shoulder. He hadn’t said anything since Lance had intercepted the dagger, and Lance was getting antsy to the point of shifting where he sat on the ground.

“Shiro, please talk to me.”

“Not much to say,” Shiro replied grimly.

“How about, ‘thank you, Lance?’”

“Thank you?” he repeated indignantly.

“Hey, no problem, any time,” Lance returned cheekily. “I mean, I _did_  save your ass.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” 

“Why are you being such a baby about this?”

“You got stabbed, Lance!” Shiro shouted loud enough that Lance jumped. “You could have _died_.”

“You risk your life protecting us all the time!” Lance replied. “Why is it okay that you take bullets for us but we can’t take one for you every once in a while?”

“Because I do it because I’m a leader, not because I’ve got some kind of self-worth crisis!” 

Lance stilled. “Excuse me?”

“We all know it, Lance; we can see it in the way you talk about yourself. You don’t think you’re as valuable as the other paladins.”

“You think that’s why I did it?” Lance asked. His face was absolutely dead pale.

“You think it’s not?”

Lance stood suddenly and ran, fleeing the cover of the trees to disappear behind a bush.

“We’re not done talking about this!” Shiro shouted. He stood angrily, stalking after Lance with an angry determination.

When Shiro got close enough to hear Lance retching into the bushes, he bristled with concern. 

“Lance?” he called, tentatively. Lance continued gagging a few more times before the contents of his stomach came rushing up. Shiro took a step toward Lance, but the blue paladin waved him off. “Hey, I’m–I’m sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you’re in pain. We can discuss it later, okay?” Shiro knew what it was like to have so much anxiety and pain culminate inside your stomach that it makes you nauseated, and he felt terrible about having done it to someone he thought of as a brother.

“Shiro, I don’t think–” Lance was cut off by another wave of gagging.

“Calm down, buddy,” Shiro soothed, “it’s going to be–is that blood?”

Lance’s vision was tumbling and spinning. By the time he finished vomiting a second time, he could barely see anything at all. He took a staggering step toward the direction of Shiro’s voice, barely registering the panicked way the older paladin was calling his name before passing out completely. 

Shiro cursed under his breath as Lance’s full weight suddenly dropped into his arms. He laid him flat on the ground and started to pat his cheeks gently. “Lance, can you hear me?” When he didn’t get a response, he immediately called for Allura to create a wormhole to get them back to the castle-ship. This was more than just anxiety. 

When Shiro picked Lance up to carry him back to the Lions, he couldn’t help but notice the heat that radiated from the wound on his shoulder. It made him pick up his pace, practicalle running all the way back to the Black Lion. As soon as he was able to set Lance safely in the cockpit and press the autopilot, trusting Black to get them home, he turned the unconscious boy over to examine the wound.

Black tendrils had begun to shoot out of the cut, and the edges were red and angry-looking. 

Lance started to stir just enough to be in pain, groaning with the effort of waking up.

“Easy,” Shiro instructed, “You’re okay.”

“S’bright in here,” Lance mumbled, tossing his good arm over his eyes to block out the light. 

“Hang in there. You’re doing great.”

“Feels like I’m dying,” Lance complained.

Shiro chuckled nervously. “This is why we don’t take poisoned daggers for me,” he tried to joke, but Lance wasn’t having it.

“I did it because you’re my friend, not because you’re my leader,” he managed weakly, “and not because I don’t think I deserve–” he trailed off, whether exhausted or not quite knowing how he wanted to finish that sentence, Shiro couldn’t tell. Didn’t think he deserved to what? Be on the team? Be the one who survived?

“I know,” Shiro said, stroking Lance’s hair, “and that’s what makes you the most valuable one of all of us.”


End file.
